Stage 3 (Book 3): Bravo

by Stark, Ken

  Now came the hard part. The five of them were alone in an enclosed space currently occupied by an unknown number of alphas and echoes, they had no cover and no reinforcements, and they not only had to clean out every last one of those creatures, but they had to do so in absolute silence. Though alphas were not attracted to the howls of other alphas, it wasn't uncommon for them to probe toward those sounds. So they also had to do it quickly. All it would take was for one of those hundreds of alphas outside to probe a little too far, and one of his compatriots would have to act. Maybe it would be the twang of an arrow, or maybe the handclap of a .22, but it would be enough. That single unmistakably human sound would bring the entire swarm down on their heads. And behind them would be more. And behind those, more still.

  Mason didn't have to signal the others. They all knew the plan. Addison and Alejandra split off on their own toward the stairs, and he, Hansen, and Christopher fanned out, just as a little old echo came stumbling around a corner. As if they'd practiced the manoeuvre a thousand times, Clancy weaved his big body between the creature's legs, dropping it to the ground, and Christopher made quick work of it with his long-handled hatchet. But as always, what began as a trickle soon turned into a torrent. Two more echoes came at them and were silently and summarily dispatched. Then, an alpha came probing from out of nowhere and the probe suddenly turned into a charge. The quick change caught Hansen by surprise, and Mason almost made the mistake of rushing to his aid. But another alpha came barreling out of a back room just then and made straight for him, howling like a banshee and clawing wildly at the air.

  This time, Mason waited for the creature to come to him. He raised the rebar to his shoulder like a batter at the plate, and when the moment was right, he stepped into the swing and caught the alpha across the bridge of its ugly pug nose. The almighty blow sent the creature high into the air in a backward somersault and slammed it into a wall, minus the top part of its head.

  And they kept coming. A tiny teenaged alpha bearing another in its wake. Then another, and another. Then three more echoes, and three more after that. Then two more alphas as big as redwoods. And as the torrent came, the team fought on without a sound. Not a single grunt, not a single groan, not so much as a harshly drawn breath. The muted sounds of battle drifted down from above, so Mason knew that Alejandra and Addison were in a fight for their lives as well. Yet, he heard not a peep other than the abbreviated howls of alphas or the tell-tale crunch! of metal on bone.

  At last, the torrent returned to a trickle and the trickle died away. Just like that, there was no one left to fight. The three of them split up and took to searching the main floor from one end to the other. But aside from a single scuffle from the direction Hansen had gone, it seemed that the job was done.

  Mason carried the search to the farthest corners of the main floor, but even with Clancy snuffling around every corner and under every door, he came across only one more creature.

  It was an echo, but only just. It had been a girl, no older than seventeen. Dark, almond-shaped eyes. High cheek bones. Slim. Tiny. Now, she was a hollowed-out shell. The alphas had fed well, and this poor, broken little thing didn't have enough muscle left to move. She clawed desperately at the floor, but couldn't quite manage to crawl her way out of a puddle of her own blood and gore and urine. Clancy growled at the thing, but then the growl turned into a single plaintive whine, and he sat on his haunches, looking from the echo to Mason and back again.

  Mason said the first words he'd uttered since leaving building seven. But he did so in a whisper so light that he could barely hear it himself.

  “I'm sorry...” he hushed to the tiny little echo. Then, he gently placed the tip of the rebar between those big, dark, almond-shaped eyes, and leaned his weight onto it until the creature stopped moving.

  With that final act, the brutal drama was played out. Mason returned to where they'd split up, physically spent and emotionally exhausted. He was soon joined by the other four, every haggard face reflecting the same disposition. There was no celebration, no round of handshakes, no pats on the back. They simply gathered together and made their way back to the door.

  The defenders outside had been given instructions to fall back into building six if things got too hairy. So, it was a good sign that they hadn't. But as Mason came close enough to see the Quad, it became readily apparent that their backup hadn't exactly been idle. Six new bodies now littered the ground; some with great gaping wounds, one crumpled in a heap with its head lying several feet away, and at least one sporting a single round hole in its forehead the approximate size of a javelin point. He also noted that Beverly had her shotgun back over her shoulder, but he couldn't really blame her for scampering back to the Peterbilt to retrieve it. She hadn't done anything as stupid as actually using it, so what the hell. Besides, maybe he'd been wrong to keep it from her in the first place. That big scattergun was more of a security blanket than a weapon to the woman. Maybe, her having it would be good for them all in the long run.

  As Christopher secured the door, Mason allowed one last lingering look at Gloria. In another reality, he and the others were there right now, piling in and making their escape. But not in this world. Not here. Not now. He briefly considered amending the plan on the fly, but to do so now would be a stupid move, and stupid died quick. And so, having done the math in as short a time as it took him to blink, he signaled to the others and started back to the Alamo.

  They didn't travel in a bunch, but instead fanned out across the Quad. Only once did anyone have to act. But the echo was in such a ravaged state that a single swat from Alejandra's machete put it down for good. It was clear sailing after that, and they made it all the way down the cement steps, and almost to the doors of the sanctuary before the end came. Richie and Donn were holding the line well, and were just in the process of clubbing a fat, bald alpha into the ground, when the alarm was raised. It came in the form of a short, sharp twang! from Teddy's crossbow.

  Damn! It had been too much to hope for, after all. Whether it had been the abbreviated howls from building six or the muted sounds of battle from the Quad, the swarm had finally grown inquisitive, and that fat, bald alpha signaled the end. For all Mason knew, it might've been the first of the swarm to probe this far, or it might've been the tenth. But if Sarah had given little Teddy the go-ahead to fire, it meant that more were coming. Lots more.

  He didn't have to get his group moving. They all knew precisely what that single twang meant, and they hurried along double-time. But then a handclap sounded from up above, and they all froze in place as if they'd just heard their own death knell.

  “Inside!” he hushed to the group, fairly propelling Inez and William through the doors. “All of you! Get inside! Now!”

  As always, when the end came, it came quickly.

  One second, Donn and Richie were beating an alpha into pulp, and the next, they were staring wide-eyed into the abyss, seemingly rooted to the spot. Another alpha crashed into Richie, sending him flying backwards, and Donn was forced to chase after the thing, creeping his war scythe up its back in successively damaging blows, until he could finally skewer it through the skull with one final, decisive swing. But then another came charging around the corner, and they were both caught flat-footed. Donn fended off the creature long enough for Richie to struggle out from under the dead alpha. But by the time he was back to his feet, another was almost on top of him.

  Sarah picked off both alphas, then she and Mackenzie opened up on the gathering swarm. The barrage of handclaps was too much for the rest of the creatures to ignore. A great raucous chorus of howls and snarls rose up, and Mason called out to the two boys, “Donn! Richie! Move!”

  They were both blanched with fear, but a second call from Hansen got them moving.

  “Guys! Get your asses in gear! Now!”

  And that they did.

  By now, all four snipers were raining holy Hell down on the swarm, but it would always be a losing game. Teddy went through her crossbow bolts
in seconds. Then, Diego's fanny-pack was emptied and he took to kicking up loose bits of gravel from the rooftop for extra ammunition. Mackenzie and Sarah kept up the barrage, but then Mack's 100-round magazine ran dry, just as the vanguard of the swarm tore around the corner, and it was all Mason could do to throw Hansen through the doors and barrel in after him, wrapping the chain back around the handles and holding up his hand for absolute silence.

  No one uttered a word, but a half-dozen guns came up, bolts drawn, hammers cocked, and fingers on the triggers. And rightly so. Even secured, the door was made of glass. One lucky hit and the whole swarm would be in. Several of those huddled inside even went so far as to hold their breath, releasing it only when the first few alphas tore obliviously past. But as the Quad filled to capacity and bodies began slamming into bodies, the swarm turned from tearing itself apart to directing their rage on anything and everything within reach, including that very breakable glass door. Mason and Hansen both grabbed for the handles as if they might be able to keep the swarm at bay through sheer force of will. But with a shared grimace, they ultimately relented and herded everyone back upstairs. Only Alejandra, Addison and Christopher stayed behind. Those three would be their Tail-end Charlies, staying put to cover the doors. And if worse came to worst… well, Mason didn't dare let his train of thought carry him that far.

  Once upstairs, Hansen helped himself to Sarah's Howitzer and made a move back down to join the others. But Mason caught him by the sleeve and whispered something in his ear, and he relented. As Hansen stuck Becks to his side like glue and went to each of the boys in turn to get them ready for a probable invasion, Mason huddled Inez and Beverly together and hushed to them both. Then, all three of them began turning the place upside down. At last, they tied a white lab coat into a bundle, and Mason ran with it down the hall and up the ladder to the roof.

  By the time he emerged from the hatch, Mackenzie and Sarah had replaced their spent magazines with full, and were down on their bellies on each corner of the roof, taking careful aim at the alphas nearest the door. Diego was still kicking up loose bits of gravel and doing what little he could to help, but when Mason arrived and waved him and Teddy over, he tucked the slingshot in his back pocket and ran to his side. Mason opened the bundle and spread the contents at their feet, and both kids raised a curious eye up to him.

  It was a mishmash of odds and ends they'd grabbed at random. Glasses, tin cups, mugs, and, being the college's science building, there was a wide array of beakers and flasks and great bulbous things that looked a little like giant light bulbs. In a few clipped words, Mason told Diego and Teddy what to do. He didn't have to tell them twice.

  Mason went first. He'd had some experience in distracting a swarm before. After signaling for Sarah and Mack to hold their fire, he picked up one of the big light bulb-looking things and hurled it as far as he could. It smashed to the ground close to the Peterbilt, and every alpha within earshot spun around toward the sound. He threw another in the same direction, but the swarm shifted at the very last second and the glass exploded against the back of a little female's head. It wasn't what Mason had been aiming for, but the result was just as effective. The alphas nearest the unfortunate creature tore into her, and the ensuing melee brought others.

  After careful consideration, Diego selected a metal tray. The thing looked far too big for someone so small, but the boy had talents that went well beyond slingshots. He hauled back his arm like a champion discus thrower and let the tray fly, and it sailed far out over the swarm before finally clattering against the side of a building on the other side of the Quad.

  As always, distracting the swarm was a double-edged sword every bit as sharp and deadly as that ever-elusive thing called 'hope.' Not enough, and you accomplished nothing. Too much, and you were liable to bring the world crashing down around your ears. It was a game of subtleties; a lesson that the kids picked up on immediately. Teddy's first attempt was with a ceramic mug emblazoned with the words 'World's Greatest Dad,' but her aim was off and her throw was weak. It landed barely thirty feet into the swarm and succeeded only in drawing some of the more distant alphas closer. But she was a quick study, and her next throw was spot on. She hurled a glass beaker to the far side of the Quad with the precision of a quarterback, and with all three of them keeping it up for several more rounds, the crush of bodies against the Alamo lifted appreciably.

  When Mason was satisfied that their priority had been met, he waved Sarah and Mack back across the gangplank and herded everyone into the hatch. As the last one down the ladder, he found Sarah, Mackenzie, and Clancy waiting for him at the bottom.

  Sarah shook hands with Diego and Teddy, giving them both a well-deserved, “Good work, guys.” Then, she threw her arms around Mason's neck and graced him with a kiss on the cheek.

  Mack gave each of the college kids a fist-bump, then she held up her tiny fist for Mason.

  “Not bad,” she said, receiving the gentlest of fist-bumps in return.

  “Thanks, Mack. I'll take it.” Mason said with a smile. But once Mack left with the others, and only he and Sarah remained, his smile instantly vanished. “I guess things didn't go quite as planned,” he said, wiping a smudge of soot from her cheek.

  “They rarely do. Did you clear the building?”

  “Yes, but fat lot of good it does.”

  “Was there food? Water?”

  “We didn't exactly have to time to take inventory, but Addison said the restaurant looked pretty well stocked.”

  “Did you see a bookstore?”

  “In passing. But again, we were a little rushed. Did you see the size of that swarm? Getting to Gloria now is going to be damn near impossible.”

  Just then, another voice growled from behind, “Aww, are you going to take your lady balls and go home, tough guy?”

  Mason spun around to see Detective Sergeant Gary Hansen's trademark sneer, and it took every fiber of his being not to immediately remove it with a right cross. “Great plan, Gary. Fucking awesome.”

  Hansen shrugged. “Hey, the best laid schemes o' mice and men, asshole.”

  “Yeah, well your scheme didn't just go awry, Gary. It brought the whole goddam house down.”

  “No, you did that!” Hansen aimed a big fat finger at Mason's chest. “You and that monster fucking truck of yours.”

  “Hey! He was trying to save your daughter!” Sarah roared.

  “And as you can see, she didn't need saving!” Hansen roared even louder.

  “How were we supposed to know that? Besides, if you'd just waited five more seconds before sending out the cavalry, we would've been on our way instead of standing here having this stupid fucking conversation!”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know─” Hansen cut himself off, and Sarah stabbed a finger right into his chest.

  “Exactly,” she said, leaving Hansen to chew over that one single word and all that it implied, as she stormed out of the room.

  Hansen stewed and said nothing, but Mason had to give him a modicum of credit for at least appearing to ponder the point. “Spunky gal,” he grumbled at last.

  “I'd love to be there when you tell her that,” Mason said, dryly. “So, you got any more bright ideas?”

  Hansen's sneer returned in full.

  “Just one, tough guy... If that mountain isn't going to come to Muhammad, Muhammad had better get his ass in gear and get over to that mountain!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  “Are you kidding me? That's gotta be thirty feet!”

  Everyone was spread out along several windows overlooking the spit of land between the buildings, and aside from a strangely sanguine Hansen, nobody much liked what they were seeing. The car-barrier was keeping the swarm out, but it was also keeping them in, and a dozen or more alphas were already in full probe between the Alamo and building six, with thrice that many standing vigil, dangerously close. And just a few short yards south was the Quad, now home to hundreds more, just waiting for a human sign. A dash across that thirty f
eet of open space wouldn't just be damn near impossible, it would be suicide.

  “More like forty,” someone in the back said in a hush.

  “If you'd have listened to me, we'd all be over there right now,” Mason growled, not trusting his temper enough to even look Hansen's way. “Or better yet, we could be miles away.”

  “And if ifs and buts were candies and nuts...” Hansen snarked. “C'mon Einstein, if we'd done it your way, we'd have come up a few men short. No way we all could've gotten over there en masse.”

  To be honest, Mason had run that particular what-if scenario through his mind a dozen different ways since his little blow-up with Hansen. As loathe as he was to admit it, the old bastard was right. The only reason the five of them made it at all was because everyone else was covering their collective backsides. If they'd all gone together, at least a few of them would have their own bloody little patch of Skyline real estate to call their own by now.

  “So, we went through all that for nothing,” Addison harrumphed. “The building's clear, but we can't get to it. Spiffing.”

  “Not exactly, Poindexter,” Hansen gruffed, dabbing a fat sausage of a finger at the glass. “That's our way in, right there.”

  It was a door. A side door to building six. Metal. Set into an alcove. No latch on the outside. Mason had seen it earlier, but had immediately discounted it.

  “Why the hell didn't you point that out before?” Beverly snapped at Hansen. “We could have gotten in that way instead of going all the way around the whole damn building!”

  “Not likely,” Sarah answered for him. “That's an emergency exit.”

  “So? We've broken into those before.”

  “Not quickly, and for sure... not quietly.”

  “So what the fuck good is a locked door?” This from Alejandra.